


Plaster and Tile

by Kienova



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 18:44:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7000048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kienova/pseuds/Kienova
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Patrick,” she panted when he trailed his lips down from her mouth, over her neck, nipping at the delicate flesh over her pulse.<br/>“I can’t help myself,” he confessed, breathless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plaster and Tile

They had come to Nonnatus for lunch when he had started misbehaving. Shelagh had been listening to Sister Evangelina recount a rather odd birth when she felt Patrick’s hand on her thigh beneath the table, stroking her leg through the fabric. His fingers occasionally caught on the edge of her stockings a few times, thumb sliding over the hook of her garter, playing with the clasp in a way that made her heart race, arousal licking up her spine and settling low in her belly. She was glad they were seated at the end of the table, Sister Monica Joan having decided to skip lunch, so there was no one on her left to suspect anything. Patrick, for his part, kept up a regular commentary, using his right hand to eat his soup while his dominant hand was occupied beneath the table cloth.

It became apparent quite quickly that he wouldn’t be content with just the simple, although intimate action. His fingers found the hem of her skirt, pushing the loose fabric up until he could slide his hand beneath it, twisting his wrist as he moved, fingers quickly coming into contact with her knickers. She glanced up at him, trying to rein in her panic at the contact. His face was neutral, voice steady as he added his own opinion to something Nurse Lee said, posing a question as he pressed against her, rubbing her clit in tight circles. She felt her body respond, heat pooling between her legs, seeping out of her centre and into the fabric of her knickers. Patrick’s only reaction was to smirk slightly around his next spoonful of soup. Shelagh could feel herself flushing, head spinning at the sensation. She couldn’t let him continue, she wouldn’t be able to hold in the sounds that were already clawing their way up her throat.

“Excuse me,” she panicked, pushing away from the table and dashing towards the stairs. She ducked into the bathroom at the top of the landing, walking towards the sink. Her reflection showed her blushing cheeks, pupils dilated and chest heaving. Shelagh took a deep breath, combing her hands through her hair, trying to calm her racing heart. She jumped a moment later when Patrick appeared, ducking into the lavatory and closing the door behind himself.

“I told them you were feeling ill,” he explained in way of greeting, eyes searching her face for answers, hoping that she wasn’t mad. “I’m sorry if I upset you –”

“You didn’t upset me,” she interjected, turning to face him, crossing the room as she spoke until she was standing in front of him. “It... I wouldn’t have been able to control myself –”

Before she could finish he grabbed her around the waist, spinning her until she was facing the mirror again, looming above her, his body quickly connecting with hers. She gasped as he pushed her against the wall, his hands finding the back of her thighs and lifting her up. Immediately she felt herself spread her legs, her calves dragging up along his trousers, the rough material sending a bolt of arousal through her. He reveled in how light she was, stepping between her legs, pressing her into the plaster as he devoured her, tongue invading her mouth with quick strokes and circles. Shelagh moaned in the back of her throat as she tangled her fingers in his hair.

“Patrick,” she panted when he trailed his lips down from her mouth, over her neck, nipping at the delicate flesh over her pulse.

“I can’t help myself,” he confessed, breathless. She felt his hands trailing all over her, one minute they were on her waist, the next on her ribs, one roughly palming her breast through her blouse. She let her head drop back against the wall, thudding slightly as he pushed his pelvis more tightly into her, rocking slightly, letting her feel his growing erection. She felt dizzy with arousal, unable to understand how he had quickly undone the buttons on her blouse, yanking it open until he could capture a nipple in his mouth, hiking her further up the wall. Shelagh bit her lip, trying to stifle the groan that he elicited from his actions, teeth scraping over the hardened bud in his mouth before he sucked hard. She arched her back, pushing her chest further into his face while her hands slipped to his shoulders, nails scraping across the fabric of his jumper.

Patrick grinned around her, releasing her nipple to travel back up her chest to her throat, their lips clashing together in a tantalizing kiss. She bit at his bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth as he reached down, gathering her skirts up until they sat about her waist, hands trailing over the straps of garter belt, the hem of her stockings on her thighs, the sensation pooling wetness at her centre. His fingers quickly started rubbing at the front of her knickers a moment later, the pale blue fabric dampening even further at his ministrations.

“I want to be inside you,” he whispered against her lips. “I want to feel you around me.”

“Yes,” Shelagh answered, vision going fuzzy as he undid his trousers, freeing himself before sliding her knickers aside, teasing at her entrance. “Please,” she hissed, hating that she was already at the verge of begging, desperate to feel her husband inside her. She let her fingers roam over his back, wishing that she could feel his skin beneath her hands, but knowing they didn’t have time.

“God, you’re so wet,” he mumbled against her, rocking his hips and dragging his cock across her labia, the head catching on her clit on ever other stroke. Part of him was content to stay like they were, thrusting between his wife’s thighs, coating himself in her, hearing the breathy gasps that broke free of her lungs when he hit her just right until he exploded. The other part of him fought to be inside her, to take her hard and rough against the wall, to hear her scream as he ploughed into her.  

“Patrick,” she nearly sobbed, “please stop teasing me.” Her hands had found their way to his hips, trying to tug him closer, tug him into her. Her legs had settled high on his waist, knees bracketing around his ribs, her heels pressing into his ass as she kissed him fiercely, grinding against him. He could feel himself leaking, short bolts of pleasure sliding along his cock as he felt her practically dripping against him. He found that he couldn’t resist anymore then, tilting his hips until he was aligned correctly, nudging at her until the head slipped inside.

“Shelagh,” he moaned, feeling her stretch to accommodate him, enveloping him as  he slid deeper inside her, one hand holding her to him while the other pressed against the wall. The contrast between plaster and tile beneath his fingers grounded him, but only just, his body drowning in sensation as he felt her muscles ripple around him, trying to pull him further into her. “Are you all right?” he managed to ask, burying his face in her neck, sucking at her pulse again.

“Yes,” she replied, squirming slightly, changing the position until she felt his body settle completely into hers. “Ohhhh,” she exclaimed, voice breaking, the sounds more guttural than he had ever heard from her. He immediately started to thrust, slow at first, rhythm tempered, letting her get used to the position. He had never taken her anywhere except their bed before, their marriage still so new, barely a month old, that he hadn’t been sure how far she was comfortable going. How adventurous she would be. As he felt her nails dig into his shoulders, he realised that her body didn’t want slow and even, didn’t want placid and full of whispered endearments, gentle touches, and promises of devotion. She wanted him to take her hard, to lose himself in her body. 

Unable to deny her anything, ever, he changed the angle of his thrusts, Shelagh’s head thumping back against the wall as her breath left her, a silent cry escaping as he started to move into her with purpose, his cock slipping over the sensitive spot inside her, his pelvis grinding against her clit as he moved. He pressed his mouth to hers as her volume started to increase, no longer quiet and breathy, but hitching and loud.

“Shhh,” Patrick whispered against her lips, trying to fight back the grin that wanted to overtake his features, knowing that he was forcing the symphony of aroused gasps from her. “You like that, hm?” He felt more than saw her nod, her hips rolling against his every move, muscles clenching and gripping his cock, her movements quickly becoming frantic. He wasn’t sure how she would take what he wanted to say next, what he wanted to ask her, but he couldn’t stop himself, mind clouded with his search for release. “Do you like knowing that the nurses could hear you? That the sisters could hear you? That they could know that the proper little nun they knew is being fucked in the bathroom of a convent?”

The words had barely left his mouth when he felt her shatter. Her mouth opened in a stifled cry, her hips jumping as her body clenched around him, her grip so tight that it almost expelled him from her centre. He barely lasted a few seconds longer, pushing her as hard into the wall as he could without harming her, quick, sharp thrusts sending him over the edge, cock twitching as he spilled inside her in wave after wave of release.

“Oh God,” Shelagh panted, the last few jolts of her orgasm slicing through her as he dropped his head to her shoulder, breathing hard as he tried to keep them both upright, legs shaking as he came. He managed to keep them balanced for a few more moments, long enough for them both to gather some air into their lungs before he carefully lowered her back to the ground, a trembling hand brushing her hair from her face.

“Hello,” he smiled, loving the flush that covered her cheeks and the hazy look in her eyes that was only ever present after they’d made love. She didn’t answer verbally, standing on her toes to give him a chaste kiss as she winced, crossing the bathroom to get a cloth to clean between her thighs. He sat on the edge of the bath, watching her run the tap. “I hope I didn’t go too far with what I said,” he muttered, suddenly insecure that he had pushed her. The glance she shot back was full of heat and embarrassment.

“Evidently not dearest,” she answered, going back to her task before she tossed him a dampened cloth as well. “Apparently the thought of making sure everyone knows I am no longer who I once was is more... appealing than I had initially realised.”

By the time they gathered their composure and slipped out of the room, lunch had finished, the nurses and nuns having resumed their duties for the afternoon at the clinic and via the roster. No one remained in the dining room to ask them about their absence or Shelagh’s feigned illness and for that they were both grateful.

If Trixie gave them a scandalised look and a wink on their way out, neither commented on it, too busy trying to hide their blushes at having been caught.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading <3


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